


Let's Just Stay

by thebaddestwolf



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaddestwolf/pseuds/thebaddestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David and Billie take a nap together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Just Stay

David was just starting to drift off when her bemused laughter broke the silence of the room, causing him to sit up with a start. He was disoriented for a moment, suspended between sleep and consciousness, before remembering he was on the twin bed in the scarcely used back room of his trailer on set.

“Sorry to wake you like that,” Billie said, coming to sit at the foot of the bed. “It’s just, you looked like a corpse, lying still on your back with your hands folded over your chest.”

“My mum always said I sleep like the dead,” he chuckled, rubbing his eye.

“I just came to tell you they’ve had more delays,” she said, placing a hand on his ankle. “Something about botched wiring. Might be another hour or two.”

“Brilliant,” he groaned, lying back down and pinching the bridge of his nose. Night shoots were bad enough even when things went smoothly.

“So, could I join you then?” she asked, already toeing off her trainers. “The heatings out in my trailer — you can see your breath.” 

“Sure,” he replied, clearing his throat, realizing how lucky it was he chose to nap rather than do that other thing he uses this room for, particularly when Billie’s wearing a clingy shirt.

“Budge up, budge up,” she scoffed playfully and David scooted to the edge of the small mattress, trying not to gape as she stepped out of her jeans and threaded her bra through the sleeve of her t-shirt before discarding it on the floor. “Can we get under the duvet? I’m chilly.”

“That’s because you just took half your clothes off,” he replied, Billie ignoring his remark as they both shimmied under the covers.

David smiled to himself as she curled against his side, draping one arm over his chest and nuzzling against his shoulder. He drew his arms around her instinctively, planting an imperceptible kiss atop her hair.

Sometimes he dreaded her disregard for traditional boundaries, the way she kissed on the lips whenever she felt like it, the way she wriggled while perched on his lap. But it was late and dark and night shoots always felt a bit melancholy. He was happy to hold her, to pretend for an hour or two that this was his reality.

Soon her breathing grew heavy against the collar of his shirt and she leaned further into him, draping a leg over his thigh. Trying not to think about the lace knickers now touching his trousers, or her soft breasts pressing at the side of his chest, David focused on the rhythm of her peaceful breathing and soon drifted off to sleep as well.

***

He awoke at the feel of her lips moving against his throat. It took him a moment to realize she was still asleep, whimpering something unintelligible into his neck. They were facing each other now, a tangle of limbs with one of his legs threaded through hers, their arms clinging to one another.

“Bill,” he whispered into her hair. He glanced at the clock — 2:27 a.m.

“Shh, wake up, it’s okay,” he said a little louder, not wanting to break the bubble of silence that surrounded them. Her breathing hitched for a moment and he rubbed her back soothingly, knowing he’d pulled her from the nightmare.

She leaned her neck back and looked up at him, eyes red and glossy from sleep, and David was suddenly crushed with the realization that this was a rouse, a farce, a ghost of what he truly wanted. How many times had he dreamed of waking up in her arms? But not like this — a stolen shard of a moment from the life he wished he led.

Billie’s lashes fluttered as her eyes came into focus, mascara smudged at the edges, giving her doe eyes a haunted look. She shifted, testing out their new positioning, but didn’t move to extricate herself from his embrace. He gave her a sleepy smile.

Her hair trailed behind her on the pillow as she leaned forward, brushing her lips lightly against his.

“Don’t,” he said against her cheek, unable to back away but unwilling to move forward, too. Because the lines he had drawn were starting to blur; from exhaustion, from her thighs clenching around his leg, from the scent of her hanging in the air, the one he swore he could smell even when she wasn’t there. All at once it was wearing him down, smashing through the walls he had built, bending his resolve. “Stop.”

She rolled her hips forward, finding the part of him that betrayed his words.

“Don’t want to.”

And as she kissed a line down his jaw, mewing against his skin, he tore the remaining shreds of his restraint, scattering them in the frigid Welsh night. Because it was nearly 3 a.m. and they were under a duvet, and he was so fucking desperate for her.

Low growl building in his chest he rolled them over, pinning her on her back, beginning to devour her inch by inch by inch. Billie pulled the blankets over them completely, creating a warm little haven where nothing existed except slick skin and choked-back moans and pleading whispered words.

She bit his neck roughly the second time he made her come, surely creating a mark. David smiled as he pounded into her, finally letting go, because that was the exact spot she woke him up.


End file.
